


take me out of here

by rinthegreat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Galra!Keith, M/M, Prisoner!Lance, altean!lance, light angst?, worried Keith just wants to save Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 20:32:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10670247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinthegreat/pseuds/rinthegreat
Summary: Promise.  Just like Keith had promised the instability in the Galra Empire wouldn’t affect their relations with Altea and the other planets in the Federation.  The word tastes sour in his mouth, echoes coldly in his ears; a direct contrast to the warmth Lance normally emits.---Or: Keith isn't leaving without Lance.





	take me out of here

**Author's Note:**

> Who doesn't love some Galra!Keith x Altean!Lance? This piece was inspired by [this amazing artwork](http://marchingspace.tumblr.com/post/157657986500/jumping-into-the-altean-lance-and-galra-keith) by [marchingspace](http://marchingspace.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> Please forgive any errors. Unbeta'd

Keith sniffs him out five steps into the jail.  He ignores the startled shout from Shiro and bursts into a run, whipping around corridors, letting the scent lead him to his destination.  As if in a scene straight out of a novel, Keith spots him in the last cell, light from one of the three moons beaming like a spotlight right on his back.

He all but sprints the last few steps, dropping his sword in favor of grabbing the bars.  As if that would do anything; Keith may be strong, but he’s no match for bars meant to hold an Altean. 

“Lance,” he gasps out, and the prisoner finally turns his head and looks at him.

Lance is bathed in moonlight even approaches the bars with a wobbly smile.  He reaches out, and immediately Keith wraps his hand around the prince’s.  It’s not enough, not anywhere near enough.

“Hey buddy.”

It isn’t until he speaks that Keith finally notices things about his appearance, more than just his eternal beauty.  Lance’s usually perfect hair is dirty, his clothes are wrinkled, and there are faint bruises on his face that indicate someone strong enough to hold an Altean down had been there to welcome him.  Keith’s hand tightens around Lance’s. 

How can he still smile when he’s lost everything?

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he growls.  He means it too; he’d rather end up in there with Lance than spend one more day out here without him, even if he’s spending his precious rescuing time just gazing into the Altean’s eyes.

The prince lets out a soft laugh, but the warmth Keith has grown used to sapped from the sound.  “Are you sure I didn’t bewitch you?”

“I’ll kill anyone who says that,” he grits out, violent as always, and this time the laugh that comes from Lance sounds more like his old self.

For a moment, Keith’s transported back to their first meeting.  To golden light illuminating a ballroom as the prince with white hair approaches him and asks for a dance.  He’d never danced before, not with anyone, but he found himself unable to say no.  Lance had laughed at something Keith said – not in jest – tossing his head back and exposing a dark, slender neck that Keith wanted nothing more than to bite into.  He’d refrained himself that night and every other night he’d been there, keeping his desires trapped in the confines of his mind.

Now, with Lance trapped on the other side of these bars, he wishes he hadn’t.

The prince reaches up, brushing a finger against Keith’s cheekbone.  He closes his eyes and leans into it automatically, needing more contact.  “Why are you crying?”  Lance’s soft voice stirs Keith from his trance, and he snaps his eyes open, gaze meeting the Altean’s worried one.

He touches his own cheek, surprised to find it wet with tears.  He can’t deny them and instead reaches out, cupping the prince’s cheek as well.  “Lance –”

“Your highness.”  Shiro’s strained voice breaks the moment.  They both look over, otherwise unmoving, and Keith can see tense lines in the human’s face.  “We’re going to get you out of here, but we can’t waste any time right now.  Keith, we have to move.”

Keith nearly hisses at him.  He _knows_ they have to do something to get Lance out of here, but can’t he have one goddamn –

“I understand.”  Lance, ever the politician, steps back smoothly, detaching himself from Keith’s grip.  Keith automatically reaches out for him, but the prince is already too far away.  Despite his injuries, Lance is standing tall, the same as he stood in court when Keith had first laid eyes on him.  He doesn’t want to leave.

“Keith,” Shiro repeats sternly.

Keith fights the two halves of himself, wanting to leave because that’s the only way to ensure he can get Lance out, but needing to stay.  The thought of leaving the Altean here physically pains him, a sick twist in his stomach.

Something in his face must give him away, because Lance shoots another calculated smile at him.  “I’ll be ok, Keith.  I promise.”

Promise.  Just like Keith had promised the instability in the Galra Empire wouldn’t affect their relations with Altea and the other planets in the Federation.  The word tastes sour in his mouth, echoes coldly in his ears; a direct contrast to the warmth Lance normally emits.

A weight falls to his shoulder, Shiro’s hand reminding him that being here is affecting his judgement.  “Ok,” he agrees finally.  “But I’m _not_ leaving here without you.”  He says it as much to Shiro as to Lance, letting the human know that no matter what happens, he isn’t going to let himself be dragged out.  He’d rather be captured and held in a cell than leave Lance imprisoned in here.

Reluctantly, he lets Shiro drag him away, but his thoughts remain back in the cell.  “Shiro, I’m serious.  I’m not leaving without him.”

His half-brother has a frown on his face, a line in his brow that could be permanently etched from the number of times Keith’s given him reason to.  “I know,” he grits out, “but for now we have to stick to the plan.”

The plan is straight forward and simple.  Well…their part of the plan is.  They just have to get to the control room without alerting the guards and call Pidge and Matt once they arrive.  The siblings have the more complex part, breaking into the prison security system to override the controls.  Once they do that, they can override just the cells that are holding Lance and the other captured Altean diplomats and commence with the rescue.  Simple enough in theory.

Of course, they have to get there first.

The guard rotation they’d managed to avoid initially arrives just as Keith and Shiro make it out of the cell block.  He doesn’t have time for this.

Keith lets his instincts take over, battle lust rushing over him.  He knows Shiro isn’t going to be pleased with him after; he’s always insisting that Keith focus, be patient.  Stay in the moment.  _Patience yields focus, Keith.  One of these days you’re going to get hurt leaving yourself so open like that,_ Shiro always says.

But right now his conscious mind can only think one thing: _don’t let them get to Lance_.  So he gives in, fights sloppily, moves too fast.  Luckily enough, the rebels – former rebels now – haven’t thought to place their strongest fighters in this guard rotation, and Keith’s lapse in attention goes unnoticed.  He leaves openings, moves Shiro would’ve taken advantage of in a sparring session, but these Galra still don’t stand a chance.

Between the two of them, they dispatch the two before either of them have the chance to raise the alarm.  They should move the bodies out of sight, but they’re running short on time and Keith is _not leaving without Lance_.

A rush of _urgency_ overwhelms him, and Keith bursts into a sprint before Shiro can sheath his weapon, ignoring the aborted shout that follows him.  He has the blueprints memorized; he’d spent the entire flight over staring at them after all.  He races down hallways, turning right then left then right again, ears flicking around listening for sounds. 

But it’s hard to hear anything over the sound of his own heartrate and breathing; everything in his body tuned to the beat of _Lance, Lance, Lance_.

He places his hand on the lock to the control room just as Shiro comes around the corner, the frown on his face informing Keith that he’s definitely going to hear about this later.  If there even is a later.

The two of them burst into the room, taking the one guard in there completely by surprise.  They knock him unconscious and push him off to the side before Shiro turns on his comm.  “We’re in.”

“Good.”  Pidge’s voice crackles over their ear pieces.  Keith can hear them furiously typing from here.  “Plug in the chip I gave you.”  Their tone, usually dry and sardonic, is all business today, reminding Keith he’s not the only one who cares about getting Lance out.

Shiro, having been trusted with this part of the mission, does so immediately.  The screens shake, image pixelating in and out before code scans over the screens instead faster than Keith can follow.

This shit isn’t his forte, so he ignores the screen, ignores the sound of the keyboards in his ear, and paces.  A tick passes, five, a thousand; Keith doesn’t know.  But time is a precious resource they don’t exactly have, not when there’s an Altean prince – second in line to the throne and love of his life – whose freedom is on the line.

“Keith.”  Shiro pitches his voice low, the only indication that he’d growled out loud.  “Calm down.”

“This is taking too long.  We need to get him out of here.”  He’s filled with excess energy, electricity thrumming under his skin.  He wants to scream, rip apart everything in this room – the chairs, the computer the fucking _door_ – but he can’t.  This is still a stealth mission; they’re outnumbered by at least a hundred to one, and no amount of frustration is worth risking a failure.

Shiro sighs, clicking the button that mutes his mic.  Keith, expecting a talking to, does the same.  The Holt siblings don’t need to hear their argument, not when they’re already under so much stress themselves.  “Keith,” he starts sternly, “this is about more than just Lance.  You knew that coming in.”

And Keith did – does – know that.  Lance is more than just who he wants to be with, more than a prince, more than even a diplomat.  Lance is a symbol of hope, much like his sister.  When the Empire had still been controlled by the Loyalists, he’d been the one to risk his life and enter Galran soil.  He’d singlehandedly convinced the emperor to form a peace treaty with Altea, resulting in the first diplomatic relations between the two planets in over ten thousand years.  It had resulted in the mission Keith had taken to Altea; the mission that lead him to Lance.

He’s an Altean beloved by most of the universe, race be damned.  He’d helped bring together the planets of the Federation along with Allura.  He’d traveled into the cities, not only caring for the wants and needs of the rich.  He’d been the one on the planet when the rebels attacked, when Keith was gone and he had no bodyguards, no one with him aside from other diplomats other planets in the Federation.

He’d been the easy target.

So yes, Keith knows it’s about more than _just Lance_.  That there are five others they have to get out and get back to Altea.  If even one of the prisoners can’t make it out alive, the entire Federation could be in jeopardy.

But at the same time he doesn’t care.  Those other princes and princesses and whatever they are…they’re not Lance.

“Shiro, don’t.”

“I can’t save five people by myself, Keith.”  Shiro’s face is twisted in a combination of dread and concern.  “I –“

“Ok, we have control.”  Pidge’s voice interrupts him.  Both of them shut up, clicking their mics back on.  “Did one of you verify the cells we marked?”

“I did,” Shiro tells them, voice back under control.  He’s standing strong, poised and ready to move the moment the others give the word.  “What else do you need us to do?”

“Nothing in here.”  Matt’s the one who speaks this time.  “Get back to the cell block and prepare for extraction.  Pidge is headed for the teleporter room.  You’ll all need to be gathered together so they can get your coordinates.  Oh!  And grab the chip; we don’t want to get tracked.”

“Understood.”

Keith’s already halfway out the door and down the hall before Shiro gives Matt his affirmative.  If everything goes according to plan, all the diplomats’ cell doors will open at the same time.  They’ll need to move fast to get all of them out of the cell block and down the hall to where Pidge can teleport them without interference.

Shiro’s on his tail within a few ticks, and together they make it to the cell block just in time for the doors to pop open.  Some of the diplomats are in bad shape – looking like they’ve taken a beating worse than Lance – while others walk out, not questioning what caused the doors to open.  Keith runs past them all, directing them towards Shiro, and heads to the back cell. 

Lance’s cell.

He whips around the corner and runs straight into the prince.  The force of it almost knocks him over, but Lance catches his arm, steadying him.  “Keith…”  Lance trails off, eyes searching Keith’s own.  He’s torn between pulling Lance into his arms and getting him out first.  But they haven’t talked about anything yet; Keith’s never even confessed.  Oh yeah, that would be a good place to start.

“Lance, I –“

“Look out!”  Lance shouts, pulling Keith to the side with ease.  The zing of a sword follows, slicing through the air where Keith had just been.  He’d been so focused on the prince he hadn’t even sensed someone sneaking up on them.

The other Galra swings again and this time Keith meets him with his own blade.  “Lance, get to the entrance!”

Lance gives him a look, as if he doesn’t want to leave Keith either, before his face twists into a warning.  Keith heeds it just in time to block another blow.  He needs Lance out of here; he’s too distracted with him nearby.  “Get out of here!”  He shouts again, and this time the prince listens.

The other Galra finally gets with the program and lets out a shout of: “intruders in cell block A!  They’re taking the prisoners!” before Keith can silence him permanently.  The shout would’ve been harmless, useless, but he spots the flashing light of a comm on the guard’s shoulder.  Dammit.  So much for stealth.

He races back towards Shiro and the others, but before he can make it there he hears a shout.  For once, Keith’s too slow.

The second rebel’s sword swings down as Keith leaps out of the way, slicing neatly through his suit and into his arm.  He lets out a hiss, blood already spurting from the wound.  Luckily for him it’s his non-dominant arm, so he can still raise his sword but he’s still too slow.  He watches the sword swing down again and even though he raises his own to meet it, he knows it’s too late.

Blue obscures his vision, followed by a strangled shout and a thud.  Keith blinks up as the cape swirls away, his vision realigning itself.  The rebel is down, lying prone across the floor and Lance is standing there, staff weapon behind him as if he’s waiting for the Galra to stand up and attack again.

“You got your weapon back,” Keith breathes.  Sometimes Lance’s lean figure fools even him; Alteans are unnaturally strong.  Even in his battered state, he’d been able to throw a full grown Galra across the room.

“And you got injured.”  Lance offers Keith his hand and Keith takes it, grunting as he’s pulled up.  “Shiro and the others are outside.  A couple of them are in bad shape.  We need to go.  Now.”

He wants to pull Lance in towards his chest and never let go.  He wants to tell Lance all the things he’d been too afraid to say before.  He wants to kiss Lance and see if the Altean prince will kiss him back.  He wants so much, but he has enough presence of mind to know that now is not the right time.  So instead he rolls his shoulder back, ignores the drops of blood staining the ground in red below him and nods.

They take off running together.  Keith had simultaneously wanted to run in front of him – protect him from anything that jumps out – and behind him – keep him from getting stabbed in the back – so he’d decided to stay alongside the prince.  By some miracle, they make it outside the cell block to where Shiro has everyone gathered together without being attacked.  The moment Keith’s within a few feet of him, Shiro gets on his comm.  “Now, Pidge!”

Keith feels the tingle across his skin, sees the gold surrounding them all, but still doesn’t breathe a sigh of relief.  Instead he reaches out and grabs Lance’s arm, clutching tight.  He’s terrified they’ll materialize in the ship without the prince.  Lance’s arm twists in his, turning and gripping his elbow just as tightly.

The gold swirls around the prince too, their bodies fading from the hallway.  Keith catches sight of a rebel coming around the corner, shouting something, before everything fades from existence.

He blinks as the scenery reassembles itself into the inside of the Altean castle.  “Matt, Pidge, we need medical assistance over here!”  Shiro’s voice booms over their heads, but Keith couldn’t care less.

Lance is standing in front of him, bruised and battered but smiling and otherwise unharmed.  Keith squeezes his arm and earns one in return.  The relief hits him all at once, a tsunami more than a wave, and the prince’s smile morphs into something less recognizable as Keith’s vision blurs.

“Keith?  Buddy, are you ok?”  Lance’s voice gets louder until Keith’s head thumps down against the hard, smooth surface of the prince’s shoulder.  He buries his face in the curve of Lance’s neck, using the material of the collar to both soak and hide his tears.

Arms wrap around his waist, pulling him close, and his hands dig into the cape on Lance’s back, having moved there without Keith noticing.  “Shh…It’s ok, Keith.  You’re ok.”  The prince murmurs over and over, fingers tracing soothing circles on his own back.  His tears aren’t going as unnoticed as he’d thought.

“Don’t leave me again,” he complains, words escaping his lips unbidden.  It’s stupid; Lance isn’t even his.

Lance doesn’t respond, doesn’t give him false promises of ‘I won’t’.  Keith knows he can’t; Lance is just as strong as Allura, just as determined to save everyone as Shiro. 

Just as reckless as Keith. 

Instead Lance says: “You’re still bleeding.”

Keith tightens his hold, not wanting to let go even for a trip to the infirmary.  “I don’t care.”

To his surprise, the prince laughs.  “I know.  But I do.  Also I’m pretty sure that at least two of my ribs are broken.”

Keith jumps away from Lance as if burned.  Of course.  Lance had been beaten, possibly even tortured, and here he is _clutching_ to him and just making his injuries worse…

“No.  Keith.  Keith, don’t.  You didn’t hurt me,” Lance promises, closing the distance again.  He strokes his thumb across Keith’s cheek, moving his fingers up and back to where his ear is pressed back against his head.  Lance strokes his ear there until Keith’s muscles relax under the touch.  “Let’s go get checked out together, ok?”

He nods, not trusting himself to speak.  Not wanting to let Lance go even an arm’s length from him, he reaches up, cupping his hand around the prince’s.  He savors it a moment before Lance turns it, threading his fingers between Keith’s and letting both their hands drop to their small sides.  He bumps Lance’s hip unintentionally, sliding closer so their shoulders brush together too.

Lance’s expression turns unexpectedly serious for a split second before he turns sharply back to him.  Keith short circuits as soft lips press to his own.  It’s a fleeting moment, hardly even a heartbeat’s worth of time, before Lance backs away again with pink high on his cheeks and a faint smile on his lips.  He’s stunned, too stunned to even reach up and touch his own lips to see if they feel any different.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago,” Lance tells him, turning his head so Keith can see the pink extend to the tips of his pointed ears.  It’s so painfully cute, and Keith’s so unbelievably blessed to be able to see this that he almost tears up again.  Before he can embarrass himself further, Lance pulls him off the teleporter.  “Let’s go.”

Keith squeezes his hand.  He’ll go anywhere as long as they go together.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading my [ongoing Klance fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9798509) you've probably noticed that "rebel" doesn't necessarily equate "good guy" in my stuff. I kept that theme going here. Hope you enjoyed! Hit me up on [tumblr](https://rinthegreat.tumblr.com/) too!


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